| |
––––––––
ONCE OUTSIDE, ROSEMARY shivered in the chill that had crept into the fresh spring air now that the sun had set. She pulled her shawl around her shoulders and looked around for Grace.
Veering left, and following the curve of the balcony, she could see the outlines of party guests on the other side of the curtained windows. It reminded her of the theater, all the characters playing their respective roles, while she, as an observer, watched in silence. Except, it was as though she’d come in at the interval and missed the first act in its entirety.
This, to her, was a familiar sensation, one she’d experienced many times during an investigation, and it only piqued her curiosity. The desire to unravel the puzzle strengthened her resolve to learn who might be threatening the owner of Barton Manor.
Escalating voices pulled Rosemary out of her reverie, and she followed them until she could see Grace’s shadow splayed across the stone floor just around the next bend.
“Come on, Grace. What I’m asking is easy dough to a man like your father. We know Teddy is in for the lion’s share, so we need something to keep us rolling in the green for the rest of our lives. You and me, that’s the plan, isn’t it?” Rosemary recognized the whiny, grating tone of Herbert Lock’s voice, and held her breath while she eavesdropped without remorse.
Grace recoiled slightly. “You know I haven’t agreed to anything yet, and all this talk about money is making me uncomfortable. You obviously don’t know my father as well as you think you do if you believe he would want you discussing such matters with his daughter. Furthermore, you aren’t ingratiating yourself by pestering me about it. If you want an investor, ask Father yourself.”
“Don’t you think I already have?” Herbert snapped. “He claims his assets aren’t liquid enough and I know it’s a blatant lie.”
“Whatever my father says, I believe to be true. Or, perhaps he has no desire to enter into an investment with you. Again, Herbert, if Father has already said no, then no is the answer. I wouldn't recommend interfering with him.” It sounded like a threat to Rosemary and a well-deserved one.
Herbert bristled. “What exactly is that supposed to mean, Grace?” He sounded a little out of breath, as though the proverbial rug had been pulled out from beneath him.
“It means that I believe I have made my decision after all, and I’ve every intention of telling my father just what a cad you are. Do not expect him to continue to support you as a suitor, as I highly doubt he will appreciate your treatment of me. Nor your obvious attempts at digging for whatever gold you can siphon from him.” She turned as if to go, and Herbert reached out and grabbed her by the elbow.
“Don’t walk away from me.” Suddenly, the whiny tone disappeared, and his voice sounded menacing. “You’ll do what I ask, or I will talk to your father. I’ll tell him what I saw in London, and then we’ll see how he really feels about his precious little angel.”
Rosemary’s eyebrows lifted toward her forehead, and she stepped into the light to come to Grace’s defense. Herbert appeared as though he’d swallowed a frog, and Grace’s eyes looked dark in a face gone pale.
If Herbert was the violent type, Rosemary’s presence would do little to dissuade him from action, but then again, he didn’t know about the self-defense lessons she had had at her late husband’s insistence.
“Grace, I need a word,” Rosemary said, her voice clipped and her eyes bright enough to burn holes straight through Herbert Lock.
Grace extricated herself from Herbert’s now-limp grasp and followed Rosemary inside. Neither woman said anything to the other until they had weaved their way through the crowd and into the back hallway where they had agreed to meet when the opportunity arose to slip away unnoticed.
“I’m so sorry you had to witness that,” Grace said when they were alone.
Rosemary shook her head. “You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s your business, and I shouldn’t have slithered up on you like that.”
“Thank goodness you did. Herbert isn’t a bad man, but he has a temper,” she explained. “He thinks he’s entitled to my hand in marriage, but—” Grace continued until Rosemary cut her off.
“You don’t love him.” It was a statement, not a question, as Grace’s tone had already conveyed the answer.
“No, I don’t,” Grace conceded. “But that doesn’t always matter, does it?”
Shaking her head, Rosemary agreed. “It ought to, but I know it doesn’t. Does your father know the extent of your dislike for the man? Has he seen this side of Herbert for himself?”
Grace sighed. “Father only ever sees what he wants to see. It is odd, though. Please don’t think me conceited, but I’m not a frumpy woman, and my family is obviously wealthy. I’m not pining for marriage proposals, nor do I need to marry for money. Father has never thought any of my suitors were good enough. It seems ironic that he would finally decide upon someone I cannot tolerate.”
“Yes, that is odd,” Rosemary said, thinking some thoroughly deplorable thoughts about Mr. Barton. “But these things have a way of working themselves out. Ultimately, it’s your decision.” She could not yet tell if Grace was the type of woman who would rather be happy than rich, but she suspected as much.
“However, it will not matter in the least what your father wants if something terrible happens to him. Thus, we have more important things to worry about right now. I’d like to see that note. Can you show it to me?”
“Yes, I—” Grace didn’t have time to finish her sentence, because the door near where they were standing opened to deposit her brother into their midst. Rosemary groaned internally at the interruption, thinking perhaps it hadn’t been wise to attempt investigating with so many people milling about.
Theodore took a surreptitious look around as Rosemary, amused at the thought he might still be avoiding Marjorie Ainsworth, watched and wondered why.
To add insult to injury, Frederick appeared at the other end of the corridor and strode with purpose in their direction. Upon his arrival, Rosemary introduced him to Theodore and Grace, repeating the ritual of politeness in which she had been forced to engage all evening.
“I don’t know why our paths never crossed, but it’s a pleasure to meet you all the same.” Frederick offered his hand to Theodore, who echoed the sentiment. Next, he turned to Grace and made a show of gallantly kissing her hand. “Lovely to meet you, as well.”
“Likewise,” Grace said, displaying none of the womanly indications of attraction that Frederick generally took for granted. He peered at her for an extra moment, and Rosemary idly wondered if her response made Grace more appealing to her brother, or less.
Teddy clapped Frederick on the back and gestured towards the ballroom. “Care to join me for a drink? I need a shield, and I believe you’ll do nicely.” Frederick nodded, and Teddy caught his sister’s arm. With no other choice but to follow, Rosemary and Grace abandoned their escape plan, sharing a look of amused frustration as they returned to the ballroom.
Now that the trays of canapés had been emptied, the toasts lifted and lowered, the formalities observed, most of Mr. Barton’s’ colleagues had taken their leave. Only a smallish group of the most dedicated partygoers remained behind.
“Rosemary!” A trilling voice cut through the din of music and the sound teased from Rosemary an involuntary smile. Whirling, she found herself standing under the beaming gaze of Lorraine Blackburn. “You look absolutely ravishing, darling!” Vera’s mother took Rosemary by the shoulders, held her at arm’s length for a better look, then pulled her close and planted a kiss on each cheek.
As she always did, Rosemary blushed under the attention and swept her eyes over Mrs. Blackburn’s dress. “Not as ravishing as you. You practically glitter,” she said.
“It’s been far too long, my dear, since you have visited the countryside. I must insist you and Vera spend a day with me. We’ll go for a walk out to the shooting range and practice our aim. What do you say?”
Mrs. Blackburn had to be one of the few women Rosemary knew who took as much delight in target practice as she did in getting dressed for a party. Unsurprisingly, she was a crack shot, better than the vast majority of men who had tried to outdo her.
“I say yes, of course. I wouldn’t dream of missing the chance to spend quality time with you and Vera. It has been too long, and I can’t say I abhor the idea of letting off a little steam.” Rosemary found as she said the words that they were very true.
Lorraine smiled her dazzling smile and gave Rosemary a wink. “It’s time for me to rejoin my adoring public and regale them with naughty tales from my glorious past treading the boards. Ta-ta!” And with that, she sashayed back across the dance floor with a spring in her step that caught the attention of every eye—at least, every male eye—in the room.
The distraction served Rosemary well, as she and Grace used it as cover to slip away once more.
